AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There’s so much more to life than one place.
New Orleans is seamy, exciting, full of life and culture.
Once I’m done, I towel off, let my hair fall over my shoulders, and squeeze out some of the moisture. My reflection catches my eye in the mirror, which is foggy from the shower. It’s blurred, so I grab a towel and wipe it off.
And I see myself.
I see myself as I am—naked, damp hair, no makeup.
And I want Ronan to see me like this. I haven’t let any man see me without makeup since Lucas. I always wear makeup to the club. Dark lipstick, smoky eyes, lots of mascara to accentuate my already naturally long lashes.
But now I see myself. I see myself as I truly exist. My lips are full and pink, my skin is fair, freckles are sprayed across my nose and cheeks, and my eyes are big and brown.
My hair, the reddish-brown of a dark terracotta, much darker than Ronan’s.
And my body. Firm in all the right places, with medium-size breasts and long legs.
The only thing made up on me is the burgundy nail polish on my fingers and toes.
I wrap the cushy white robe around my shoulders, securing the belt.
Then I leave the bathroom and head to the back bedroom. The chandelier above the bed is flickering again.
But I feel no fear this time. Not after a day of wandering the streets of New Orleans, learning about the culture and of the myriad ghost stories.
Probably faulty wiring in such an old building. But if it’s not? Whatever spirit is in my room means me no harm. I know that now.
I jerk at a knock on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Mary.”
Ronan’s deep and sexy voice.
I open the door, as my true self.
He gapes at me. “My God. You’re beautiful.”
I warm from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes. He looks just as amazing. His hair is also damp, and he’s wearing a khaki kilt and a simple white T-shirt. His feet are bare.
“I’d like to invite you to my room,” he says.
“Oh? And what excitement awaits me there?”
“Come with me, and you’ll find out.”
I don’t even have to think about it. I put my hand in his, lock my door behind me, and follow him to his room.
I spent the night here last night.
The covers are turned down, and one red rose lies on the pillow where I slept. I walk toward it, not waiting for any kind of permission, bring the flower to my nose, and inhale its sweetness.
“How did you know roses are my favorite?”
“I didn’t. I’m glad they are.”
“Mmm.” I inhale the sweet fragrance again.
